Chapter 7: Patti Goes to School

"Holy Shit, Pete!" Cathy had said. "Don't tell me you're going to become a nun!"

She was partially right in her concern. Many of the girls who went to St. Ursula's did so because they felt God had called them. Though why God would want a woman to go through life without experiencing the delight of an orgasm or getting 'prettied up' was totally beyond me.

Thankfully, I was practically forced into bed Wednesday after the ride home from the hospital. Ann really fussed over me and I guessed she wanted to get in as much mothering as she could before I left for school on Sunday.

I know, it's a stupid day to start at a new school, but I had to get boarded there first which meant I'd have to spend Sunday night. As it was, I'd be starting two weeks late, but the advantage was that since I was going to a different school than the one this body had been destined for, I could pick and choose most of my own subjects.

Nine periods a day, one set aside for lunch, for 8 subjects per semester, or more commonly the girls did 7 and took a spare. I needed 70 half credits to qualify for university, so why waste a period when I was going to be up at night with little else to do but study?

Dad had picked up the class schedule and the curriculum for the grade nine students and aside from mandatory classes like religion (six half credits required), English studies (eight half credits required), math for an additional eight over the expected five year program, the rest were options with only one or two full credits required for graduation.

Religion was the first class of every day, and for the remaining seven classes I picked English Lit., English Comp., and another English option in public speaking. I took geometry and algebra for two other classes and decided on history and geology to round out my first semester. Of course, the history would seem like really ancient history to me and I would have to learn to keep my mouth shut about things that hadn't been discovered yet.

Cathy was sitting on the end of my bed crying about how this would kill our friendship because Father Roberto (personally I think she had a crush on him) had made it that she and I would only be able to go out shopping and stuff like that in the two weeks between semesters. I liked Cathy well enough for the short time I had known her, and especially liked the way she looked, but knew deep down it was just because she was the type of girl I used to fantasize about when I went to High School the first time.

I was starting to realize I had ambitions for the future. I wanted to have a better life than the disaster that was Patti's, and certainly better than what had been my own miserable existence. I wanted to make friends with people who had dreams and ambitions. Being a housewife and a mother, though being a noble life choice, just didn't appeal to me for a lifetime commitment. I had wasted my first life; I sure as hell wasn't going to waste this one!

Cathy had left promising to write every day, but I knew she wouldn't. I figured she might think of me as holidays came and went but she had her eyes on boys. Soon, I would be but a fond memory of her youth.

Mike and Ann did all they could to make my last days of freedom pleasant, but the house was a strange environment to me. Nothing Einstein had told me had prepared me for this and for the most part, I just sat in bed reading or in the living room watching TV.

And trying on clothes! That was a bitch. As a man, I had mastered the art of undoing a bra in seconds flat with only one hand. It hadn't mattered whether they were front closures or back closures. I could get them undone.

Doing them back up, well I never worried about that, and now I was going to pay the price. I don't know who designed the damn things, but they had to have been sadists. I tried slipping it on like a vest, the one that had the front closure. That didn't work and I was getting a kink in my neck trying to do up the clasp, which strangely enough, I couldn't see. When I tried on the one that closed at the back, I thought I would go nuts! Stupid little hooks never lined up with the right catch and doing it behind my back not able to see what I was doing was totally frustrating. I didn't want to ask Mom how to do it; I figured it would only make her worry. Finally, I settled on doing it up around my waist where I could see the hooks and then spinning it around and sliding my arms through the holes and lifting it up. It was a good thing that I didn't have big boobs or I would never have gotten it up and over.

After nearly a day of experimentation, I discovered that once I had it spun around, it was easier to leave it down and slide my arms through and then slide the whole thing up. Then came the blouses and slacks.

At the hospital, I had worn t-shirts and not bothered with a bra, and the shorts had an elastic waist. Not even zippers to mess with. But now, I had to dress like a lady.

The first thing I discovered was that the buttons were all on the wrong side. This just proved to be awkward and I felt like a klutz. The slacks were a lot easier although a bit harder getting up over my hips. They also had zippers on the right hand side. Weird.

Dresses turned out to be my favorites as I could just raise my arms and they would fall down around me. It only took a few minutes to figure out how to do up the zipper at the back. Skirts weren't too bad either.

I had a full-length mirror in my bedroom and I spent quite a bit of time admiring myself. Okay, I wasn't exactly sexy, especially given the lack of bust, but I really did look pretty. I experimented with makeup, taking it easy, and kept working my hair every night: 100 strokes as Linda had taught me. It was starting to take to the new way I brushed it and the part had all but disappeared. Mom was so happy to see me looking happy and healthy she even bought me a bottle of nail polish. Now that was fun!

My hands were steady enough to apply the light pink tone she had bought for me, but I started to appreciate what women go through. First, I had to file my nails. I would have preferred to cut them short, but settled for something just a bit longer. I had to quickly become ambidextrous. To pass the time and just for the fun of it, I painted my toenails as well. That was easier than doing the fingernails on my right hand!

I discovered that I had a drawer full of pantyhose, but I so disliked wearing them that I just left them there. They were a struggle to get in and out of and I couldn't find one single reason to wear them when I had such beautiful legs. That was one of the advantages to being 5 foot 10. I had long legs that curved at the last minute to give me a nice tight butt.

Ann tried to make all of 'my' favorite dishes for me in the few days, but as much as I smiled and oohhed and ahhed over them, and they were tasty, they were not my favorites!